


A New Beginning

by social_reject



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:53:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/social_reject/pseuds/social_reject
Summary: He could see the rapid waves overtaking the burning bridge he stood his ground on, could see the flames of their past be washed away and deserted; abandonment leading their lives to one of forgotten moments and buried pasts. They were intertwined at the deepest of levels, every step Michael took was in an attempt to catch up to him, every breath he inhaled followed shortly after his, the lifelines on their hands were etches of each other- stories that had been lived, were being lived, and would be lived. They always came back to each other in the end, every ending merely another beginning, the cycle of themselves starting over once more. It never changed. They never changed.A Soulmate AU





	A New Beginning

Beginning at the start of a deserted bridge tentative steps forward led Michael along, crumbling stone underneath his feet with an uncertain feeling of fight or flight consuming his perplexed body. Every instinct inside of him was screaming at him to fight, that the war would be worth the pain of the battle, that time would heal his wounds and the ache in his bones would vanish, all the momentary tribulations worth the eternal rewards. His hands reached out, grasping at a life line of material clutched between his fragile fingers, bone white knuckles and blurred vision spinning him into a time when the war was unspoken and intangible between them. A shuddering breath ripped out of him, the first of the raindrops falling from a gray and destructive sky, a storm built up in his chest from years of desecration threatening to overspill and flood his being.

He could see the rapid waves overtaking the burning bridge he stood his ground on, could see the flames of their past be washed away and deserted; abandonment leading their lives to one of forgotten moments and buried pasts. They were intertwined at the deepest of levels, every step Michael took was in an attempt to catch up to him, every breath he inhaled followed shortly after his, the lifelines on their hands were etches of each other- stories that had been lived, were being lived, and would be lived. They always came back to each other in the end, every ending merely another beginning, the cycle of themselves starting over once more. It never changed.  _ They _ never changed.

“Calum, please,” Michael called out desperately, feeling the burn in his eyes and his tears mix with the raindrops running down porcelain, cracks in his armor and his voice.

Calum turned, the grip Michael once had on his cloak falling as he swept around, face stony and stature stoic as his eyes swept over a trembling Michael. Michael didn’t want it to end this way again- with Calum walking away and leaving Michael broken, only to come back for more once their lives were ready to begin again. Michael was tired of waiting; tired of wanting and then having and then being left to wait once more. Each life they had lived together was never enough, the end was always abrupt and treacherous, the tumultuous nature of their overlapping lives was the only reason they kept coming back. Michael had convinced himself of this on many nights where the air was too cold and the moon was too bright and dreams of their fated pasts haunted him relentlessly. 

What felt like an everlasting silence was bound to break and the words that always came back to haunt Michael hung in the dead air between them, smoky pasts and crackling words like a blazing fire waiting to brand their story with their ending. Michael could hear the words before Calum’s mouth even began to form the syllables, his eyes shut tightly in an attempt to block it out, if the world wasn’t seen to him, then maybe the world wasn’t real to him anymore.

_ “There’s not much time left,”  _ Calum said and had said nearly a hundred times during their shared lives.

Michael’s breath caught in his throat, hands tugging at soaking wet strands of hair, quivering lips and heated cheeks burning past the cool rain dripping off of his body. After a hundred lifetimes come and gone the words still held the same amount of pain as they had the first time, and would feel the same for the last time they were spoken. As much as Michael wanted to deny them he knew the validity in them, knew that their time really was running out and that the inevitable would be just that- their fates were already slated in stone and there was no changing destiny. Michael could only hope that in his next lifetime, Calum would be there with him for even a moment. For as many lives they’d lived and lost together there were just as many where they never found the other.

The fight in Michael’s body eroded, the storm in his chest was mellowing out to the sadness of unseen waves and unknown rain. The bridge he stood on was made up of broken stone, the structure collapsing over time, many paths walked before and limited to come. Michael was never sure if this time was the last time he'd see a part of his soul, if he and Calum had run their courses and the burdensome fate they relived again and again had dwindled down to nothing left. There were only so many embers left to burn in a forgotten fire. 

They were forgotten flames left to burn, left to wait for each other to come back and refuel. They were dying sparks that the world tried its best to smother and keep from coming back to life. He knew what he would say next, the words imprinted on his heart and in his soul forevermore.

“Find me.” 

And because it was always easier than continuing the conversation and delaying the inexorable events to follow Calum stepped forward one last time and bid Michael goodbye in a language that was entirely their own. Shaking hands pulled at clothing and bodies melded together, tasting rain on lips and tears run dry as goodbye became a reality. The past had caught up to them and was preventing their future. Michael knew that once they were to pull apart, it would be only moments before Calum was taken from him, he knew that no matter where they turned or where they tried to hide the end would catch up to them and their lifelines would fade, nothing but the bright light of death to accompany them to new life. 

Calum pulled away from Michael's lips, the taste of him lingering as he pressed his lips to Michael's forehead in one last moment of solidarity and peace. Michael could hear the end near, the cacophonous noises of battle raging on coming towards them, Calum stepping away from Michael and turning his back on him, on any sense of a future they weren’t bound to have. Michael closed his eyes, completely unaware of the yellow petals stirred up in the breeze, floating past him and carrying him into a new life. Calum was gone and so he would be too; the end had come hastily, always just in time for a new beginning.  

***

Michael tossed the covers off his overheated body, another night left to lay in a haunted wonder at whose eyes bore into a piece of his soul every night, left to imagine the face of his soulmate he had yet to meet. Michael was no longer aboard the ship, waves weren't rocking underneath him but he still felt unsteady as he breathed out sharply. Every night brought a new terror to him, another end to what had yet to come. Michael couldn't reconcile with the conflicting emotions that seemed to tamper with him as soon as the moon became visible in the dark of the night. 

Dark tufts of smoky clouds drifted past half a moon that night, something bone chilling in the air. He had seen a previous end, stood on a bridge with one last fleeting moment between them before being ripped from the world they had once known. As he woke, all that was left in his mind was brown eyes and tall shadows caught in the light of a fire. 

Michael knew deep within himself that when he met his soulmate he would  _ know.  _ He would recall how it felt to be with them, knew the calm that always came before the chaos. As fast as he had ripped the sheets from his body he burrowed back underneath them, hot breaths claiming the cool air but shivers racking his body nonetheless. He let his eyes slip shut, hoping for a small amount of uninterrupted sleep before the ship set sail at daybreak. He felt his body relax as he evened out his breathing, muscles going lax from their previous tightened and panicked state. 

As horrifying as waking to nothing but the remembrance of lives past and pain painted eyes, it was those same eyes that eased Michael back into sleep. They were familiar and kind, a piece of Michael's home and soul that was able to quell the overwhelming fear that was tied to them. Michael sank back into sleep slowly as he kept his thoughts light. He woke the next morning in a daze, movements slow and tunnel vision consuming his sight, a familiar lull in his steps as he exited the inn he had taken up residence at when the ship had docked for a trade. 

As the sun worked its way into the sky with early morning purples filling the horizon, Michael found his footing to the boat. Cobblestone streets and busy vendors setting up for sale his only obstacle during that dawn. Black edged it's way around his sight, an undeniable sign that  _ something  _ was about to happen. Michael had lived this experience numerous times before, most leading him to his soulmate. Sometimes it was merely in passing and a life without them lurked in the shadows. He preferred to love and love again, at some point in the many lives they had lived, all inhibitions and insecurities of their futures melted away and the time they were granted was coming to be the time they needed. As abrupt as the end was, it meant that they had a beginning. 

Michael was alone as he walked the streets to the ship, one more corner taking him to his destination where a number of crew were already busying themselves to help set sail. A soft wind blew off the waves, salty air and cool temperatures guiding the crew to work faster, excitement at their newest voyage leading them along. Michael spotted the captain on the bow, he was speaking animatedly to another crew member, foreign from behind as Michael wasn't sure who it could've been. People started to blend together out at sea, long days under the sun with restless waves under their feet; one man simply became the same as the next man. 

Michael strode up the gangway, making pace to take up his post, helping the crew haul along and set track to their destination. The tunnel vision that claimed Michael's sight hadn't relented, his body felt lighter and each step felt like he was merely floating just inches above the splintering wood. His heart was beating as usual but the softness that gripped each beat felt like home. Intuition was telling him the visceral reaction his body was having was leading him to his soulmate, no other viable explanation floating through his thoughts. 

As he grappled with ropes everything that was real felt abstract, the feeling in his fingertips gone pleasantly numb, body instinctually pivoting, brightness there to break up the recesses of darkness in his sight. 

“Need a hand?” 

Easiness washed over Michael- the calm that he  _ knew  _ would accompany the person. He looked up from the tanned and work rough hand that was offered to him, eyes meeting dreams made up of melted honey, tamed and trimmed curls framing handsome features that made the floating feeling in Michael intensify. He was soaring as he stood from his half crouched position and nodded at the man. 

Eyes held contact and Michael wondered what the other man was feeling in that moment. In the seconds their gazes held he wondered if he could feel the lifetimes they had lived surrounding them, if the bridge had come back to him, if the fire of their battles was now coursing through his veins in the same way it did with Michael. His breath was caught in the back of this throat, thought going into breathing as their gazes disconnected and the other man stepped forward almost hesitantly, a dash of disbelief on his face. 

Michael recalled what it had been like to meet in previous lives, the uncertainty overwhelming the sensation of knowing. As true as it may have been and as much as Michael knew he was the one there was that ever present disbelief that held his hand that he had  _ finally  _ found his soulmate. He cleared his throat, irresolute hands reaching up and quickly going back to his sides, firmly held in place as the other man stood still. 

In another lifetime they may have been quick to react, they may have been in an embrace before names left their mouths but Michael stood unsurely before him, swallowing hard as he waited. 

“Calum,” his soulmate said, an introduction rolling off the tongue but sounding like the most beautiful symphony to Michael's ears. 

Calum's hand reached out once more, this time in greeting and Michael was quick to take it. As rough as his hand was, callouses and dirt under unkept nails, the touch of skin to skin contact was soothing to Michael. 

“Michael,” he finally mustered out. He was unable to break gazes with Calum, the rhythm of his heart dependent on the pulse he could feel in Calum's wrist. He could feel his heart skip a beat when their hands fell away from each other and a chilled wind interfered. 

Michael could only vaguely hear the captain calling out to the crew, motivating them to work faster- threatening to doc wages if the ship wasn't sailing  _ soon.  _ The captain’s strained holler was enough to momentarily get Michael moving once more, haphazardly working at the ropes he had so hastily abandoned. Calum lingered by Michael, as if hesitant to leave him after finally finding him and Michael was almost glad that it wasn't his decision to be the one to stay or walk away. 

In a hushed whisper Calum questioned Michael, his voice only loud enough for the two to hear. He asked the questions Michael wanted to ask Calum, his own answers doing little to fill the craving he had for what Calum might have said.  _ Yes,  _ he remembered their past lives.  _ Yes,  _ he knew what that meant and how it would play out for them. But Calum didn't ask the question Michael was most yearning to know. He wanted to know if Calum was willing to fight this time. 

With work looming over Michael and an angry captain still barking out orders he decided to bite his tongue. He knew if he were to ask it wouldn't be a lighthearted yes or no, it wasn't black or white and no matter what Calum said, they would need to discuss it further. He blew out a rather large breath, his chest felt light yet restricted, breaths of relief were shaken by underlying fear. 

Calum had eventually walked away, enough answers from Michael to suffice and duties calling to him, he left Michael at his own post with a sort of delirium hanging over his head. This wasn't how it usually went, his past lives were always different but something felt innately  _ off  _ this time. He wouldn't go so far as to say something was wrong but there wasn't that immediate knowing of it being right. 

As the work day wore on and Michael tended to his duties aboard, his body growing exhausted and mind going hazy from the intensity of the sun ever presently overhead, Michael was glad to stomp his way down to the galley for whatever kind of slop the crew had cooked up. He couldn’t help that his eyes wandered the wooden walls of the galley, flickering about in search of Calum, it was merely his soul crying out for it’s long lost piece. In line for food he could feel that Calum was near, skin prickling in recognition as he felt a hand land on his shoulder. Goosebumps ran up and down his arms as he spun to face Calum, brown eyes boring into him as if he was under inquisition. 

“We should really talk,” Calum muttered low enough for curious ears not to hear. 

Michael nodded- the promise of food forgotten and abandoned as he followed Calum back up to the mostly deserted main deck. The sun had finally fallen and navigated stars took their place, the lack of moon in the sky giving off an eerie calm to the deck. Michael swallowed hard as they strode up wooden steps and ducked behind the beam of a mast, a little more privacy afforded to them with the concealment. 

The all consuming silence that followed was harrowing but Michael pushed past it, the far off look in Calum’s eyes deafening. He spoke so as if only to bring Calum back. 

“Nice night isn’t it? Not too cold, the stars are bright.” 

Calum sighed. “Are you really talking to me about the weather?” 

Michael bit his lip and shrugged in a nonchalant response. Calum tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, gaze downcast to the splintering boards and his awkwardly shuffling feet. Michael didn’t know how to start the conversation that very obviously needed to begin. He thought that by Calum leading him up here he would be the one to speak up first. As another minute of dead silence dragged on, Michael realized he thought wrong. 

“Look,” Michael finally started, voice shaken but as strong as he could manage. “We both know what’s going to happen. Why are we wasting time in silence when we should be living as happily as we can, while we still can?” 

“So you think it's set in stone then? It’s going to happen no matter what?” Calum choked out. 

Now it was Michael’s turn to look at the floorboards unsurely. In a past life he would’ve fought tooth and nail but this life- this one was different. There was something already unsettling between them, the dreams more constant and frightening. He shuddered at the remembrance and wrapped his arms securely around himself as if the air was too cold when really it was just fates chill running up and down his unprotected back. 

As words evaded Michael and the overwhelming gaze Calum kept trained on him kept his tongue tied the nights eerie calm quickly turned. What once was twinkling stars and mellow waters turned to darkness and cutting waves. Michael recognized the lack of stars in the distance and the unsteady rock of the boat immediately. Black sails disguised by the night headed their approach and attack. Calum sensed the panic in Michael and immediately looked off to where his eyes could not break away from. 

There was no time to react, there was no right or wrong action as the lookout began hollering and the crew came storming up steps and warfare had begun. Michael was frozen but Calum was quick on his feet, pulling them both down at the first sound of open fire. They tumbled to the deck, elbows splitting with the thud and knees knocking against each other as they took cover. 

Michael’s eyes closed and all the dread that had settled low in his stomach exploded up to his chest as the first of the cannon fire ripped apart the hull of the ship. Somewhere deep inside him he knew their time was much too short, that this life was  _ wrong.  _

“We have to fight,” Calum's voice sounded against the firing of weapons and shrill screams of men gone down. 

Michael nodded, taking grip on Calum's forearms, the pair working to stand on a boat that was falling apart beneath them. Michael suddenly wanted to fight for  _ them,  _ but the fight Calum was looking towards could only end in their demise. With nowhere to go but untrusted waves Michael swallowed down his fears and tucked his inhibitions away. 

Calum took one last look towards Michael, forlorn yet distant, his touch falling away like it'd never been there in the first place. 

“There's not much time left.” 

Those words hit hard against Michael's being. What should have been days turned to hours and what should have been promises turned to questions. But, he nodded in response and held his stance as the ever sinking ship went down. 

Michael's eyes closed before he could watch Calum walk away again, before he could see the dagger fly right past him to pin yellow petals to a fallen mast. 

Only a hope filled whisper left Michael's trembling lips that tasted of tears and years of tragedy. “Find me?” 

***

All of Michael’s life seemed to pass in an ordinary and dull way- each day dragged on by the ever present feeling of unfulfilled desires and a hole in his heart when he knew he was capable of love but had yet to find his soulmate. Sometimes under the cover of nightfall Michael would dream of the one he knew to be  _ the one.  _ But as every day broke and the sun would rise their face became nothing but shadows and smudges left to mystery and the night. Michael had been patient, he’d been curious and he’d been fighting for the whole of his adolescent years to stay afloat when everyone around him had seemingly found the other halves to their souls. 

His parents had introduced him to a girl with a “sustainable dowry” and as much as Michael’s heart had screamed and bled for something-  _ someone _ \- more, he soon realized time was ticking away and whoever his soulmate was wouldn't want him to put his whole life on hold. Just as he would so wish for them. If they were meant to find each other in this lifetime they would, but the chances of unfulfillment loomed precariously over his heart, if he didn't make the most of what he had then he feared it may drop and shatter him whole. 

The girl was nice enough, shiny  pin curls and rosy cheeks that would've made many men drop to their knees upon first look and surely propose marriage at the dowry she carried. She and her family had taken interest in Michael though, claiming it to be a companionable marriage- each lost in their search for their soulmates. 

Time bled on and so did Michael's heart, the pain that accompanied him with every lone step eventually dulling to something that was more bearable than he thought it would be. Time had a way of healing all wounds, even the ones that weren't technically inflicted. Maturity made him realize he was his own person and as idealized as having his soulmate with him would've been, he could still be his own person and do the things that made him feel whole. He would be the best him with or without his soulmate. 

He traveled with her by his side, a confidant and companion that eventually ended up in a meaningful friendship. The time they shared in the beginning wasn't undesirable and while Michael knew there was someone better suited for him out there somewhere, he was coming to terms with the life he'd been given. 

***

At first Michael had stood stoic still, hands on a weapon he wasn't entirely sure of, the musket too heavy for young hands. He was fighting a war he wasn't ready for. He felt his body tremble as an inevitable onslaught approached, kneecaps knocking into each other and hands shaking so violently the rifled-musket never once had true aim. War had brought terror straight to him, he'd faced fear in the eye and walked away, but now- after having fought to grueling depths- he wasn't certain how much more he could take. The only thing that kept him going was the other side. 

The battleground was scattered, red stained grass- blades that cradled the fallen and soaked up lives that would soon be born again. Michael's footsteps were wounded, pain filled, each befallen and sending shattering pain up his leg. He bled. His life trailing behind him as chaos ensued and terror rang, brethren against brethren. A country divided and souls lost to the fight. Smoke billowed out like clouds sent to the ground in search of vengeance. Michael coughed, thick and deep, jolting inhales crushing his ribcage. 

He fell into enemies arms, knowing that deep down this was the last real moment he would live. He had traveled past boundaries and barriers, past men hell bent on ending him just to be with the one who would make it all worthwhile. 

Terror did not rise in alarm at the touch- just as he knew it to be true. Across enemy lines he had seen him, had felt the pull of their souls calling to each other. There was only one thing in Michael's heart and on his mind that would carry him peacefully into new life. His soulmate. Only easiness settled in his heart and slowed his breathing. Eyes cracked open with the force of a thousand strong, meeting the lowered and leveled gaze of another. Brown was all Michael could see, brown eyes and tanned skin, dark curls that were matted with sweat. 

“There's not much time left,” the stranger said, gravelly voice ripe with anguish. His eyes were war torn and scarred, searching for release and finding solace as Michael took in a settled breath, a tremendous effort to reach his hand up to the stranger's face, pushing fallen curls away, only wanting to see more. 

Cracked and split knuckles brushed along bruised skin, languid movements that betrothed Michel to the calming sensations of contact. Michael didn't know his name and feared that in this lifetime he never would, was scared that their first sentences would be their lasts, but found comfort in the way his hand reached up to grab Michael's, easing it back down with intertwined fingers. 

They were once lost souls that had paved paths and fought wars to find each other.  They were the calm  _ and  _ the storm, recklessly searching for paradise. Michael felt home in his breaths as his eyes closed and visions of golden suns and new days rich with the promise of hope stood with welcoming grins. He was lost in the cause but captured by forever. 

He could see yellow past the haze of red as his eyes opened in one last defiant moment. Fields of flowers spanned past them- laid out like fallen soldiers. Men marched on, bearing arms that were only suited for a battle ground, meant for enemy fire. But as Michael shuddered out one last rippling breath he realized enemies ceased to exist in new life. Only a purposeful soul searching for another would live on. 

With all the certainty he could muster, last words dripping red and easing him to new life which would leave him in a searching daze he mumbled out, “Find me.” 

***

Michael stood perched at the edge of the boat, hands clasping the rail with a tight grip and the wind at his back. His gaze fell to the ocean waves, the currents cutting at the hull of the boat and splashing up as they drifted along towards their destination, New York excitedly awaiting their arrival. The night was chilled but a jacket was securely wrapped around him and the heat of another body stood close by. He felt Calum’s hand on the small of his back and looked over- gazes meeting like the sea meeting the land. Michael knew their fate, he knew that just as they would meet they would be torn away from each other. He had the dreams, each night plagued with nightmares of tragedy and irreversible fate. What he didn’t know was why they were always subjected to such a fate, why the world ruled them with an iron fist and time was always slim. 

Michael felt the chill of the night air on his face, reddening his cheeks and cutting at his lungs with a sharp and cold fire. Calum’s presence was warming him from the inside out, every time he was near Michael couldn’t deny the blush that built up in his cheeks and surged down his neck and chest. 

They'd met little over a day ago and yet what they felt was love that transcended lifetimes. Michael had approached Calum apprehensively, the feeling of knowing being overridden by the fear that constricted his chest and made his heart sink. Calum had been on the wrong side of the rails, white knuckle grip but unsteady feet as he had gazed upon the currents below. Michael had approached slowly, timid as he weakly called out to him, voice riding on a wave of fear; trying not to startle Calum or sound too broken before the fall. 

Michael leaned back into Calum, allowing the cover of night to comfort him in affording his soulmate the affection. Times had changed and though soulmates were as old as time itself, people had newfound ideology about whom should be their respective partners. That was a piece of what had troubled Calum to the other side of the railing. Michael's hands had been shaking as he coaxed him back over to the side of safety and as dark as the night was he could see every curve and edge of Calum in perfect light. 

Calum had seen Michael first, he'd explained that the fear of changing times and the pressure to do as his family wished had driven him to nearly unthinkable measures. While there was a piece inside him that knew he wouldn't have gone through with it, there was also a piece of him that yearned for freedom, the wind on his face a stinging liberation that called to him like a siren's song.

Michael had choked back tears and wiped Calum's own away with blistered thumbs and a bitten lip as Calum explained what it felt like to have the weight of the world on his shoulders and the questions of the universe be unanswered. He couldn't cope with the thought of losing Calum when they were so close to being together- even if just for a few moments in time. 

The second class area was quiet as they proceeded to leave the night behind and quietly tuck themselves back into Michael's cabin. His family had afforded him the luxury of a single on his journey to receive an education at a stateside institution. Michael hadn't been thrilled with their proposal, there was so much more to life that he wanted to explore than noses in books and perfect posture during regularly scheduled classes.  _ But  _ something had called to him when they slid the ticket his way, ‘R.M.S Titanic’ nearly emblazoned in golden treasures to his mind's eye. A ride on the finest luxury liner in the world wasn't a chance that would show up in his back pocket once more. So, he decided to further his education and explore every adventure along the way, starting with setting sail on what he felt would be a huge piece of history. 

They'd snuck into Michael's room and made sure to lock the door behind them, Michael well aware that the ticket calling to him had most likely been because his soul knew where he was headed. Calum stood in the cabin with a tentative smile and an uncertain sway, as if he wasn't quite convinced any of this was real. Michael also wasn't quite convinced of the reality around them, their pasts still cemented and chipped into his bones like newly remembered epitaphs; momentarily forgotten but haunting and permanent all the same. 

Michael smiled dazedly, letting the feeling of the rocking boat take over his body, limbs subjectable to the rhythm and steps scattered back to where Calum was just as dazed. Everything around them was surreal, as if their time in this life was too good to be true. They both knew that  _ something  _ was bound to happen, that this lifetime wouldn't last forever and that possibly as soon as they stepped off the boat they could be separated. Michael reached up to Calum, hands in hair that was soft as a gentle sea breeze. Calum inched closer to Michael, limiting the already miniscule space between them. 

“I can't believe how lucky we are this time,” Calum murmured, tips of noses pressed together and breaths intermingling. “This time we could be unsinkable. Doesn't it just feel that way? Like nothing can bring us down? This life is ours for the taking.” 

Michael nodded, pressing even further into Calum's touch and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Michael wasn't sure how many lives he had waited to hear those words from Calum, the deeper meaning of them settling into his core in an explosive yet gentle sort of way. He could feel distant fireworks simmering under his skin, colors bursting to life around them but fading back to golden brown as Michael pulled back and his gaze caught Calum's eyes. 

Nothing else was said that night, their embrace saying things words could never describe. They felt with their hands and their hearts and fingertips on skin that glided along smoothly. Eyelashes fluttered and lips that tasted like sea salt breathed new life into each other. And in the morning when the sun had risen just as it always did the time that had ticked away in the night didn't seem as daunting. They woke with languid movements that felt like a slow wave building itself up higher and higher. And when they tumbled out of bed and had to go their separate ways according to class they had crashed back down to the shore. They were left to be a secret of the night. The moon their only other companion. Controlling them just like the tides. 

They snuck secret glances at each other in passing and let their hands brush in common areas but stayed discreet, counting down the hours and minutes and seconds until they could be together again. At first dusk they met on a second class deck, tucked into the shadows and giggling at the secretive way their eyes would meet and their hands would touch. Shooting thrills went up Michael's spine and he bit his lip, complete bliss hanging over him as dusk turned to complete dark and cool air rolled off the ocean waves. An unusual calm floated between Michael and Calum that night, tucked away into their own world where nothing could sink them and their feelings. This calm did not speak of the usual destruction to come. It was oblivious and naive, it was a warm promise that turned into fire and burned itself apart. Within hours they'd been separated by the chaotic crowd, bodies pushing past bodies and panic and turmoil in every step. 

Over the crowd, in the thick of the trepidation and with reaches just barely out of touch realizations set in and the burned out fire turned to ice. 

“There's not much time left,” Calum screamed over the crowd and even though Michael couldn't hear him he knew what he said and he knew what it meant. 

“Find me,” He hollered back into the seeming abyss, hands clutching at a wilting yellow flower Calum had bestowed to him previously. 

***

The train began to take off on another set of tracks to a new town. Michael was loaded into one of the back carts with the other performers, hands on a deck of cards restlessly shuffling them and straightening them out just to shuffle them again. He had been tense since they loaded up the circus that night and set off for their next location, his body was tight and fidgeting. As if no matter how much he wanted to be loose and lax every fiber of his being fought to stay rigid. Something was wrong but he couldn't be sure of what that something was. 

The feeling in his chest was unlike any other he'd experienced in his lives. It was completely foreign and frightening. The dreams he'd been having of his soulmate had dipped away and not resurfaced for quite some time and Michael had started to wonder if maybe this life wasn't meant for them to live together. He could almost picture himself settling for someone, perhaps another performer, and spending the rest of his days in a comfortable companionship but there was an ever intrusive feeling of lingering hope- no matter what his dreams said otherwise. 

They barreled down the train tracks at full speed that whole night, Michael left to his own devices and his own wandering mind. He was restless, only catching minutes of sleep at a time and he knew it would catch up to him the next day but he'd put a smile on his face and perform like any other day. In the circus the show always went on. The beautiful chaos of the show was never interrupted, injuries were never deterrents and days off were not feasible. Michael lived for the thrill of performing, the fire in his veins and the roar of the amused crowd. A few hours of glamor and magic each night made up for the extremities of the job and the low pay. There were glimmers of spectacularness in the air and sparkles in the eyes of children. 

As unorthodox as being a magician in a traveling circus was, it helped to pay some bills and keep food in his mouth. College had been a bust and securing a job anywhere else wasn't so easy to come by. The country was on hard times and if magic was what Michael's life needed then that was what he was going to give. Be it manmade or otherwise. 

He roamed around that next morning as the magic was brought to life, red and white striped tents popping up and coming to life with games and lights and the sounds of animals. Michael never bared to look at the animals too long, there was something so inhumane to him about locking them away and putting them on display. The sun was high in the sky by the time he had made his way past all the other commotion and took up residence in the main tent where when the moon shone through the slats in the fabric he would be putting on a show. He would be surrounded by beauty in its most human form, contortionists and acrobats that dared to be different and used their bodies elegantly and recklessly. 

“Excuse me sir,” one man's timid voice called from behind Michael. 

Michael swept around at the sound and came eye to eye with a small smile and dreams come true. He realized then that the man merely meant to get past him, Michael's body preventing further way for the man opposite. And even though Michael  _ knew  _ who he was not even a flicker of recognition passed by the other man's face. Brown eyes simply blinked back at him in question and waited- steady as rocks- for Michael to move. 

One footstep pivoted him out of the way and one heartbeat was enough to shatter. His soulmate didn't know who he was, the blank look on his face and the ever present  _ nothing  _ coming from him clueing Michael very clearly in on that fact. The feeling of “wrong” was heartbreaking, soul shattering, pain filled numbness. He had never lived a life where he'd met the person of his dreams only to have himself not be in their dreams as well. Michael bit his lip as he watched the man walk away, swallowing down tightness in his throat that threatened to consume him and his racing heart. 

The magic in the air suddenly felt flat and monotonous. Michael felt emptied out and nearly inconsolable but shook himself of those treacherous feelings. He was his own man and soulmate or not he could hold his own. Other people didn't define him or who he was or who he was supposed to be and though his heart ached for what should have been he carried himself with his head high and broken heart on his sleeve. 

As the day wore on and the magnificent full moon came into the sky as sure as it always was Michael found himself lost in his performance. The magic that had died in him earlier suddenly sparked back to life, onstage and in his heart. Card tricks and illusions kept the crowd amused, extravagant flames on torches and a never ending cycle of acrobatics; tightrope walkers and trapeze artists bringing the crowd to their feet in engagement. 

Michael had called a volunteer up from the audience that night, which was not a completely uncommon practice, the young woman enthralled by the shuffling of the cards and unpredictable predictability of magic. She crooned as Michael showed off her card, flailing limbs and a covered smile that was immediately directed towards whom Michael assumed was her other half. As the young woman took her seat he heard the music gearing up for the grand finale, one last trick from him, one last flip of the acrobats and a standing ovation for the animals and his night would be done as yellow petals fell to the circus grounds in finale. 

But, an ear splitting shatter was sounded from inside the main tent that night, wooden support beams falling on the masses and escape becoming slim. Michael could feel his heart vividly in his chest, counting out beats in whispered thoughts as terror rang through him- rattling his bones- and all he could see was a stranger's lips telling him there wasn't much time left. His heart yearned to reach out to the stranger, unfinished words trapped in the back of his throat as the crowd rushed around him mercilessly. There was no time to find him. 

***

One drag of a cigarette and tongue sweeping over teeth that tasted like ash. Michael let his hand fall, lit cigarette still between two fingers and back pressed to the brick wall. He'd already loosened his tie, two buttons undone of his once crisp white shirt. Jagged breaths rolled out of him as delirium hung over his head, haunting images of the day past ever present in his mind. He knew that what they were doing was for the good of the people, but what he did was just as bad as what the bad people do. He struggled internally with it most nights, silken sheets doing little to numb the hypocrisy that felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

Michael looked out at the sunset sky, fire in the distance, and he couldn't help but think that maybe it was the perfect setting to his actions. Lies burned deep in his charred soul, innocent eyes left to bare witness to  _ too much  _ at such a young age. He had been abandoned in the wreckage and only found redemption in a hand that was offered to him, calloused and burned but offering new chances. Eyes had bled red that night, soft and sweet nothings that rolled off rotten teeth and into plumes of smoke that enveloped him, choking his final resolve. 

He could feel the tumultuous sins like thorns pricking at his side, digging deeper and deeper until he was nothing but hallowed halls left with smoke in his lungs. At times his past was too much, this life and lives before had him clenching at his chest, kneeling over at the sudden and intrusive pain of feeling a lovers touch but never knowing them for who they could've someday been. He could feel burning holes in his body where in the past his soulmate had embraced him, a charred jaw and smoking thighs that set him off down the street on unsteady legs. 

He passed the warehouse that had crumbled to the ground just like his childhood. Dilapidated wood and piles of unusable waste lay in scattered masses. Michael recalled what it had been like to be stuck in there, the darkness surrounding him when the sun was right outside. Just out of reach. Michael hadn't chosen to fall into the mob but with the alluring promise of open arms and “making a difference” he felt he had nowhere left to go. It hadn't been a conscious choice, it was one that was made for him in a moment of indecisiveness, effectively sealing his fate and putting his hands on a smoking barrel that looked down enemies. 

He was constantly at war with the bigger and badder men. Thieves and killers and escaped convicts were targets that would've had any ordinary man applauding to put down, but in the very back of Michael's mind he had to wonder what it was that drove them to what must have felt like their only choices. He pondered restlessly on many nights, contemplating if his life hadn't been disrupted by “good” could he have fallen to the “bad”? He flicked the still burning cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of his shoe, smothering it in one fluid motion. 

A hand went to the back of his neck instinctively, chills roaming up and down his spine methodically as his nerves went uneasy. He'd been fine tuned to pick up on the smaller things in the atmosphere during his time with the mob. The subtle changes of people around him, the woman guarding her pocketbook or the teenager with shifting eyes that followed a young lady’s shadowed silhouette down a deserted and dead end street. It was human nature that made Michael's skin crawl, it was raw and undefined and unpracticed but he picked up on the nuances of everyday evil with the snap of his fingers.  He'd seen it all in a matter of years. Monsters in closets and men in masks. Evil could bare any face, even that of a lover. 

Striding down the street with purpose in the souls of his feet could almost convince him it was just another summer day. But, with each step he came closer to what he was set to do. The gun in its holster felt heavier with each prolonged footstep and hands that shook and begged for another went still with all the confidence he could muster. He was merely putting on a mask. He felt as if he were at war with evil when the devil was in his own reflection. 

His rolled up sleeves fell slightly as he walked on, fingers grasping to renew the folds and fidgeting at the clasp of his belt, uncertain hands never wanting to pull the trigger first. That was what bad guys did. He was patient and refined. He did not go in guns blazing and open fire, he started as a small spark that if provoked could obliterate cities. As the sun dipped lower behind the horizon and hid to give the moon its time of brilliance Michael's nerves exploded. Each step he took was scattered and though he knew his ultimate destination like the back of his hand an invisible fog hung before his eyes, slowing his steps and blurring his vision. Blurring the lines between right and wrong. 

Suddenly motionless save for the rise and fall of his chest as practiced breaths took hold he took only one moment for contemplation, knowing that should he enter enemy lines he may not come out. It wasn't a decision he could afford to make in that moment, it was reflexes that pushed him to barrel down the door and cock the gun in his hand. It was also reflexes when he stopped short, hand on the trigger but not even nearly ready to pull. The room was empty and dark, one lone table with piles of poker chips and discarded drugs stood in the center, chairs toppled to the ground and windows smashed into shards that scattered the stained wooden floor. Michael gauged the situation, running through scenarios in his mind back pressed up to the dusty wall. He was quick to learn the importance of never leaving his back unprotected. 

But it was a sliver of light right before his eyes that caught his attention, behind a cornered wall he could hear shuffled footsteps and his grip on his gun got tighter. He knew his backup was aimed and ready and that should he give the signal a dozen men would be at his defense. 

In a timid voice the owner of the shuffling feet called out, “I surrender. Don't shoot.”

And just like the sun replaces the moon every morning the light source broke open and Michael could see the world for what it was. His soulmate strode forward with his hands on top of his head and in complete surrender, only fear written on his features and ingrained into his slow movements but a glimmer of the man Michael  _ knew  _ in his brown eyes. 

He was not one of the men they were supposed to be taking out. He was a decoy, nothing more than a disposable pawn in a criminal's game. Michael's heart yearned to reach out to him, to fix whatever damage had been done and chisel away to find the good that he knew was in there. Goodness didn't always sit at surface level but it didn't mean Michael wasn't able to see it in him nonetheless. The man smirked as his hands dropped from the top of his head and Michael let his gun fall. There was no way he'd be the one to apprehend him let alone shoot him. 

“Step forward,” Michael instructed as calmly as he could. Though he did not have his gun raised and ready to kill, his soulmate stepped forward willingly, Michael also shuffling forward with tiny steps. “I'm bringing you back to the boss.” 

His soulmate scoffed. “They're not going to like that.” 

Michael presumed the  _ they  _ he was speaking of was the other militia- the one who committed crime for the sake of committing crime and making money. Michael blinked, holding his best poker face and composure. He'd never been enemies with his soulmate before. And even though the tension surrounding them was thick enough to choke him and as palpable as his heartbeat he knew deep down they could never be enemies. 

“I don't live to please them,” Michael quickly retaliated, words on sharp edges and each footstep feeling like knives. 

He swallowed down the consuming fear and with all the confidence he could muster closed the gap between him and his soulmate. He tried to act natural and neutral, doing his best to show no signs of something out of the ordinary. He didn't want his men on the other side to pick up on body language and take it as a tell or cry for help nor did he want to look traitorous. But his soulmate's eyes were reeling him in and every ounce of his resolve was beginning to wash away. 

Michael stood tall and even though his soulmate was of the same stature Michael felt towered over. Pin drop silence surrounded them, only wandering gazes and uncertain hands filling the small distance. Michael let his line of sight drop, now boring holes into the yellow flower pinned into the lapel of his soulmates jacket. Fear crept through him, long lost dreams of certain tragedy and yellow petals drifting through his thoughts. 

“I didn't know,” his soulmate said suddenly, apprehensively. 

Michael stayed silent in the dark room, the statement enough to confuse him and break apart his train of thought. 

“I didn't know you were my soulmate. I'm sorry, there's not much time left,” he explained and the fear that crept through him threatened to strangle him as back doors busted down and men in the dozens broke through. Michael's own men were quick to follow. 

He couldn't get the words out he felt needed to be said. Two words, two syllables stuck in his throat as a shootout rang through the building. Hands did not touch and souls that had just been connected were ripped apart once more. Tragedy hung in the dead air that night. The moon lost all its brilliance and even though the sun still rose the next morning, it didn't feel quite as right. 

***

Michael sat inside a dimly lit bar, wooden barstool affording him little comfort but liquid fire was enough to calm him. He was loose and lax, finally comfortable in his own skin, all of his woes washed away at the tip of a glass to his lips. He wasn't reliant on alcohol but it did occasionally take him away from a lonely night. All of his friends had found their counterparts, some as young as elementary school aged. And yet Michael sat alone, years ticking by and hope fleeting. He knew deep inside he didn't need another person to be happy but when that was all he could see in the world it was harder to convince himself of such- to convince his friends moreover. 

“Want another?” The bartender asked, eyeing the empty shot glass and a lone Michael. 

“I think I'm tapped out,” Michael responded despondently. He was tapped out; wallet near empty and the late hour of the night leaving him finished. He kicked lightly at the wooden bar in front of him, hands drumming on the countertop in contempt. 

“Rough day?” 

Michael rolled his shoulders back and blew out a breath, meeting the brown eyes of the bartender. “You have no idea.” 

He'd spent his day at his best friends wedding. Soulmates gathered in dozens at the ceremony and as happy as Michael truly was for his best friend it also felt like swallowing nails. But, for his friends he'd do anything. No matter the pain it may have inflicted upon himself. 

“I've had a few of those days myself, man.” 

Michael smirked up at the bartender who had begun to wash out beer mugs. There were no other customers in the bar- only a few had even been there that night at all. He knew he'd probably overstayed during this visit, the echoing tick of the clock on the wall a constant reminder of that yet he couldn't bring himself to move. 

“It’ll pass in time, right?” He asked, trusting the eyes of the bartender. Honestly settled in those eyes, something very trustworthy in the man's entire demeanor and maybe it was the alcohol talking but Michael felt he was a worthy confidant. 

“I’d like to think so,” the bartender responded quickly. “Sometimes you need a rough day to appreciate the better days.” 

Michael nodded silently at that. He knew the words were true, had endured bad days all to love the good ones that much more. He gathered himself after his silent reflection and offered a hand to the bartender in goodbye. 

“Thanks…” 

“Calum,” the bartender offered and shook hands with Michael. 

“Thanks Calum,” Michael murmured and broke away from him, headed for the door with a sense of peace following behind. 

There were people in his life he was meant to meet and he could already tell that Calum was one them. No matter how small the moment may have been or how ordinary the words were, the weight they carried was life changing. 

***

Michael ran. He ran as fast as his legs would allow, body not used to such extremities but he was working on a rush of adrenaline that lit a fire inside of him. A fire that only running could put out. He let his instincts guide him, vision spotted but clearly leading the way. He didn't notice the crowd of people he was so mercilessly pushing past or the sounds of the sirens that blared through the air relentlessly. The sirens were damning to Michael, a noise he only ever heard attached to tragedy. And that's why the adrenaline coursed through him so rampantly. This time-  _ this _ time- there would be  _ enough  _ time. 

He was hellbent as he sprinted on, pushing and pushing his body to limits unknown but uncared about. He knew his soulmate was in the thick of it, somewhere on this side of a collapsing bridge and flames that shot up and down like waves. His body, his mind, his heart, his  _ soul  _ all knew. And he was determined to fight through it, he didn't want to be found in another life. He wanted- needed- to spend this life with them. Love wasn't easy, he'd come to realize that soulmates weren't just handed out to you like playing cards. But he would have to take a risk and go all in if he wanted to reap the rewards of love. 

Soft light broke apart the intensity of the flames and his arms reached out instinctively, capturing the body of another and pulling them down- down to the grass and down to the safety of fresh air and solid ground. With eyes closed and hard breaths forcibly coming out of him he could feel his soulmate by his side. 

In utter disbelief he opened his eyes and was met with lives lost and love eternal. “I found you.” 

His soulmate smiled. 

“I think we have time left for us,” he whispered like the most honest secret. 

“You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that,” Michael said thickly, honestly. His soulmate smiled like the promise of time was right before them. It was hard not to believe it when he'd fought so hard and for so many lives to be granted it. 

And they did have time. They had a life together that they never thought possible. They learned each other's names, they spent days and nights and months and years together. They spent time together they never thought they'd be granted. They took chances on each other and with each other, exploring the life they had so desperately been trying to have. They did things they never thought they'd be able to. 

In this life they made a home together, wooden floors and white picket fence, flower boxes and four legged friends with wet noses roamed the backyard- Brady the yellow lab and Max the Maine Coon cat. They shared lemonade kisses and gentle touches on the porch swing. 

They danced barefoot on splintered wood because being together felt like walking on air. Michael heard music surrounding them when it was merely static from an out of reach radio. Their bed had become a cloud that cushioned their bodies and felt like home. And they wore their hearts on their wrists because clothing had become obsolete, sleeves left in piles on the floor with the rest. Calum had always looked at Michael in a way that spoke of hope for their future, eyes dark and content- the brown so deep and dark it nearly blended in with the black of his pupils. 

Michael knew Calum's eyes like the back of his hand in this life. He knew that when they settled into a dark brown he was _ happy _ . When they lightened and reminded Michael that gold surrounded him in the simplest of forms it was because Calum was worried- because his light was shining through when the best of him came out. Calum cared for everyone and everything, generosity sunken into his bones and tenderness to every touch. 

And as they fell into the cushioned cloud that they called home fingertips trailed along skin- goosebumps raising as shivers left trembling lips. Calum's hand trailed along Michael's bare back, the feeling of a ridden wave tickling at his skin, pads of fingertips going up during inhales and down with every exhale. Calum traced waves into Michael's skin like melting liquid, their biggest fear no longer obstacles and deterrents. The sun shone in through sheer curtains because even the sky was content and filled with hope. Michael smiled wider with every touch from Calum, eyes glazed over and seeing nothing but the blazing sun helping yellow flowers bloom in the windowbox, his heart beating to the rhythm of home and love as he held onto yellow petaled hope that this beginning would have a desirable end. 

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always appreciated!


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